Hey Brother

by Jarrah Dundler

  Shaun called just on sunrise our time. I’d woken to the first cackles of the kookaburras in the gums, and couldn’t get back to sleep because my skin tingled and my stomach flipped as soon as my eyes opened and I remembered the news. Shortly after the kooka calls, the other birds started—butcher birds, magpies and currawongs, wrens and finches, a whole bloody orchestra of ’em playing for the rising sun. Then just as they were softening, dying off one by one, briiiiing-briiiing. That was it. Just two rings. Mum must’ve stayed in the kitchen all night waiting for the call, because the next thing her voice filled the whole house. ‘Shaun! Yep…Huh?…Huh? What’d ya say?…Okay, got it!’ Next second she was beside my bed with eyes brighter than the morning sun out my window.

  ‘Sounded like he was calling from a bloody stormwater drain, but I caught a few words loud and clear—back in two weeks!’ She patted my leg, same way she used to after she tucked me in when I was a littlun. ‘Now, make yerself useful and go down and tell that father of yours when Shaun’s due back. Then get straight back up here. You can help me whip this house into shape. Ready for Shaun’s return. And his welcome party!’

  I didn’t much feel like another hike down the slope, especially after my last catch-up with Dad, but I wasn’t game to argue with Mum. Since the news I hadn’t copped one bit of flak about my suspension and, best of all, she hadn’t touched the drink, so I didn’t want to rock the boat.

  Down at the caravan, Old Greggy Boy didn’t quite react like Mum had but I could tell he was pleased all the same. He gasped after he swallowed a mouthful of his instant coffee, smoothed his wispy beard, then smiled. ‘Terrific news. Heard on the radio they’d withdrawn. Good on ’em. Yanks’ve got a habit of sticking round too long in wars and we’ve got a habit of sticking round with ’em.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, shaking my head. Old Greggy should come and sit in on Civics Issues one day. Leckie would love him!

  Dad pushed his coffee cup onto the fold-out table, which was littered with mugs half filled with stagnant water and syrupy coffee that was growing mould, plates caked with dried baked-bean juice, and a lone shrivelled sausage. ‘Want a drink? Something to eat?’

  ‘Nah. Think I’ll pass, hey.’

  ‘How’d he go?’

  ‘Dunno. Didn’t say.’

  ‘How long’s he back for then?’

  ‘Dunno. Didn’t say.’

  ‘How is he?’

  ‘Shit, Dad! I told ya. I don’t know. Mum could hardly understand a word of what he said.’

  ‘Oh, yep, okay then. He’ll probably just be back for a bit, anyway. Hazard a guess they’re all waiting for the call to head on their next mission. They’re banging the war drums for Iraq, y’know?’

  ‘Jeez! You sound like Leith bloody Sacher. Why can’t you just enjoy him being back?’

  And with that Dad put his sour pants on and pulled ’em up past his waist. He shifted his chair, angling it so he was looking out to the gnarly-trunked flooded gum that stood in the middle of the grassy flats.

  He was still sore about the fight. That was it. Had to be. After all this time, I still didn’t know what it’d been about. What Shaun’d said to set Dad off enough to make him snap, lose his cool so much that he decked Shaun with a lightning-fast right. Laid him out flat. When I’d asked Mum afterwards, she’d said, ‘Ask yer father,’ and when I asked Dad, he said, ‘I’ll tell ya when you’re older.’ Jeez, it shitted me when they pulled that one.

  I waved my hand in front of Dad’s face. Sooner or later I’d get it out of him. ‘What? Still sulking ’bout that fight?’

  Nothing. His gaze stayed locked on the tree. I looked where Dad was looking. In the soft grass at the base of the gum a mother maggie was squabbling with her grey-tinged youngun, who was trying to steal the worm she’d just caught right out of her mouth. Mum dropped the worm, pecked the youngun in the head—piss off, time to do it on your own now. Seeing them made me think about the time Shaun called to say he’d got into the army. Mum’d been thrilled, never been prouder, but Dad’d stayed quiet as a mouse.

  ‘You never wanted Shaun to go, did ya? Never even wanted him to sign up in the first place.’

  Dad’s eyes darted to the ground. Yep, I reckoned I had my answer.

  ‘Well, even if you’re not proud, we are. Mum is. She’s on the up and up. Got grand plans for getting the house into shape. And a party. Not that you’d bloody come.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘Ah well, I better get back up there, hey. Mum’s got me on yard duty for the next few days.’

  ‘Next few days? What day is it today?’

  ‘Friday.’

  ‘Friday? Why aren’t you at school? Not holidays yet, is it?’

  Hopeless! Such a hard life down here he doesn’t even know what day it is.

  ‘Nah,’ I said. ‘It ain’t a holiday, Greg, but I can’t go to school today. Couldn’t yesterday either.’

  His eyes narrowed to slits and his brows merged together, turning into one big grey and black caterpillar. ‘Yeah? Why’s that?’

  ‘’Cause I got suspended.’

  ‘Huh? Hey? What’d you say?’

  ‘I got suspended.’

  ‘Huh? Why? Tell me right now!’

  ‘Got in a fight.’

  ‘What? Why? Who with?’

  I clenched my teeth, pulled my lips back in the widest smile I could muster and eased myself out of the chair. I took a few slow steps, then, before picking up my pace, I looked over my shoulder.

  ‘Nah…I’ll tell you when you’re older.’

  I took off, laughing at the sound of Dad huffing and puffing.

  Mum gusted round the house like it was a couple of days’ notice we had, not a couple of weeks. Dirty clothes formed a growing mountain of washing in the hallway, garbage bags were stuffed with rubbish and loaded into the boot of the car ready for a tip run, windows were wiped, floors mopped, walls scrubbed. All the while she sang to old pop songs blasting from Shaun’s stereo. I didn’t mind now, though, because I knew the stereo’d be back in the shed before long and Shaun’d be back in there too. It hadn’t clicked properly until Mum said, ‘Trev’s up there cleaning the shed now,’ what Shaun’s return also meant. Trev’d be getting the boot. Shit yeah!

  Our Briggs & Stratton mower that Dad had picked up from a garage sale was probably as old as him, and weighed just as much. But as I got started on my three days of yard duty—mowing the half-acre round the house and halfway down the bottom paddock to the old dairy—it felt lighter than last time I used it. I was getting bigger, stronger. I was sure of it.

  I knocked off just before sundown, rolling the mower over the bundles of lawn clippings and parking it in its spot under the back verandah. A warm westerly blew up the hill, sending the gums’ leaves chattering. Up above, Mum’s footsteps slapped on the hallway floorboards.

  ‘Now,’ she said. ‘Where have you got to? Once I find you you’re in for it.’

  I thought for a second she was chasing me to give me a revving because I’d done something wrong that I’d forgotten about, but then she yelled, ‘Gotcha!’

  The floorboards boomed as she stormed out onto the back verandah.

  I ducked out, hid beside a shrub and watched. All it’d take for her to spot me would be a glance to her right. But her gaze was locked on the tops of the chattering apple gums. Like they were a target or something. Then when I saw what she was holding, I realised they were.

  In one hand she held the portable radio. In the other she held Shaun’s cricket bat. She took a few paces forward, placed the radio on the outermost plank of the verandah, then took a few steps back.

  She raised the bat right up behind her shoulders, like Ponting ready to smash a six. Then she trotted forward.

  One step. Two steps. Three steps.

  CRACK!

  The radio sailed over the back lawn and the clothesline, rising higher and higher towards the trees. As it tore through the air the metal speaker-cover detached and spun off like a silver fri
sbee, catching rays of the dying sun and sending spears of light shooting through the shadows. The rest of the radio continued up up up and then down down down and crashed into the treetops right where Mum’d been aiming.

  Three startled crows shot out of the branches, crying fark, fark, fark.

  ‘Ha!’ Mum placed the bat against the wall, pushed her hair off her face and strode back inside laughing, talking to herself. ‘Done with you now. Done and dusted! Ha!’

  Yep. Mum was on the mend now. On the up and up.

  Trev was asleep on the lounge, curled up like a fruit bat. On the floor next to him was his duffel bag, packed to the brim.

  Mum must’ve finally given him the marching orders.

  I slung my schoolbag over my shoulder and as I strolled past him I gave him the middle finger. ‘Good riddance, ya dickhead.’

  Mum, who’d finally started making it to her own room to sleep, was sitting up in bed sipping a cup of tea and leafing through a magazine. It’d been ages since I’d seen her read anything. Ages since I’d seen her up this early.

  ‘Where’s he off to next then?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Uncle Trev.’

  ‘Oh,’ Mum said, flicking the page over. ‘Not going far. Just down to the dairy.’

  ‘What? Are you joking?’

  Mum placed the magazine on her lap and looked up. ‘No.’

  ‘What? So that’s why you got me to mow down there, is it?’

  ‘Christ, calm down, would ya? And don’t worry, I know something shifty’s going on between youse—giving each other the death stares every time ya cross paths—and I’ve spoken to Trev about it. Told him to lay off. Told him I want youse to start acting civilised to each other. And now I’m telling you. No more from either of youse. What’s done is done. Let’s put the past few months behind us. Move on.’

  ‘But…’

  ‘No buts! I’m putting my foot down! We’re putting it behind us. All of it!’

  I set off down the driveway, wondering if by all of it Mum meant the drinking and drugging and the yo-yoing and the lying round on the couch and me having to fend for myself. Probably—she wouldn’t want Shaun knowing about all that business—but if all of it meant my suspension too, I reckoned I could live with that.

  Halfway down the driveway I looked over to the dairy. Rusted tin roof. Besser-block walls covered in lichen. Weeds growing up through the cracked concrete slab. Plus all that shit in there I’d busted up, all Greg’s old junk.

  Ha, have fun cleaning, Uncle Trev…Ya dickhead!

  From up the valley I heard the clatter of wooden planks as Josie brought the bus over the second-last bridge. I took a few more steps down the driveway before I remembered what else was in that shed waiting for Trev: my graffiti.

  I froze. Fuck! He’d go apeshit, for sure.

  Then I remembered what Mum had said about putting her foot down. If she’d put her foot down Trev wouldn’t be bothering me at all.

  I strode on.

  Yeah, put it all in the past, Mum. All of it.

  By the time I reached the grid, the grumble of the approaching bus engine growing louder, I was smiling. I leapt across the road, ready to board the bus, ready to tell Josie about Shaun coming home, then chew the fat with her for a bit like I used to when I was younger, then tell Ricky the news and then Jade, and then Jessica, because I was feeling bold as. And as I skipped across the road my grin grew. Because of all those thoughts rolling round, and because of the look I imagined on Trev’s face when he opened the door of the dairy and saw the piles of junk, broken glass, the bent sheets of iron—and the message scrawled in black texta. In huge letters. Covering half the wall.

  TREVOR J. McCORMACK LICKS DOGS NUTS.

  9

  ‘Yeah?’ Ricky bounced up and down on his seat, even more full of beans than usual. ‘Shaun’s coming home? That’s fucken great news, brother. Great news.’

  ‘Yeah. Sure is. And Mum’s not even up me anymore about the fight!’

  ‘Sweet, brother,’ Ricky said as we approached the bridge before Jade’s place. ‘Looks like Lady Luck’s been smiling on us all over the last few days.’

  ‘Yeah?’ I said as we rolled over the bridge. ‘What do you mean by that?’

  Ricky didn’t answer, just grinned, stood and slipped into the empty seat in front of us.

  ‘Shit, Ricky—are you crazy? Jade’ll kill you if you sit there.’

  ‘Nah, it’s cool. Just watch and learn. Watch and learn.’

  As Jade climbed on she gave Ricky a flashy Colgate-fresh smile, and when she reached her seat she slid in beside him, pecked him on the cheek and nestled her head on his shoulder.

  What? After a year of trying every trick in the book, Ricky had somehow managed to pull Jade.

  ‘Morning, Ricks.’ Her voice was so soft, so sweet, that for a second I couldn’t believe it belonged to her.

  ‘Morning, babe.’ Ricky glanced over his shoulder at me, grinning like he’d just won Lotto.

  Jade turned round. ‘Oh hey, Tryst. How’s it going? Enjoy your time off? Great job on Leith by the way. That guy’s a total dickhead.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘Yeah, you got that ri—’

  ‘Yup, everyone’s been talking about the fight. No one as much as your new bus-buddy, though.’

  ‘Huh? New bus-buddy?’

  Ricky shook his head. ‘Shit, brother. Truly? And you reckon I’m slow. Jessica, o’ course! Who else is gonna sit there?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Jade, ‘and by the way she’s been talking about you, I think she might want to be even more than a bus-buddy. Once she’s sussed you out a bit more.’

  Whoa! I gulped down a mouthful of air.

  Jade and Ricky snuggled up close, chatting in hushed gushy tones, while I fidgeted in my seat—tapping my foot, rubbing my clammy hands on my shirt—wishing for once that Josie would ease off the pedal and give me time to work out some kind of plan of attack. Then, as we came to the bottom of the windy hills and onto the flats, I grabbed my bag from the overhead rack and sat it on my lap, clutching it tight to keep me from moving.

  ‘Hey, brother,’ Ricky called over his shoulder. ‘Quit your fussing, would ya! Just relax. You got nothing to worry about. She digs ya.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Yup.’ Jade nodded. ‘Really and truly.’

  ‘Just take it slowly, brother,’ said Ricky. ‘One step at a time.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Okay.’

  ‘Then once you’ve reeled her in, I’ll give you some tips on the other stuff.’ Ricky winked.

  Jade bwukked like a clucky chook. ‘You giving tips? Umm, excuse me, Romeo, but you were the one pashing like a wet hose yesterday. You’re the one who needs the tips.’

  Ricky put his face in his hands and whimpered like a kicked puppy. For a sec I thought he was actually upset, but then he leant towards Jade. ‘Ah well, maybe you should give us another go now, peaches. Give us some tips. You know what they say: practice makes perfect.’

  Jade recoiled. ‘God, not here! What do you think I am, a slut or something?’

  As Josie pulled towards the side of the road before Jessica’s front gate I closed my eyes and clutched my bag harder. Stones crunched under the wheels. Grass stalks brushed the side of the bus. The door hissed, squealed open. Footsteps sounded up the steps—one, two, three.

  I opened my eyes.

  Jessica was walking up the aisle, fiddling with a yellow flower that she’d tucked in her hair. I kept my eyes on her, but as she walked she kept looking round. Up, down. Left, right. Anywhere but at me.

  She paused at her usual spot, stared at Ricky.

  ‘Oh,’ Ricky said. ‘Sorry, ma’am. I’m afraid this seat’s taken today. You’ll have to find somewhere else.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Jessica. ‘Will this just be for today? Or will it be an ongoing arrangement?’

  Ah! They were all in on it. All trying to make me squirm!

  ‘Ongoing,’ said Ricky. ‘Could be for a long
time!’

  ‘Long time?’ snapped Jade. ‘Ricky—you know the deal. You’re on a two-month probation. Remember?’

  Jessica laughed and then, finally, looked at me, flashing me her most mischievous smile to date. Like she wasn’t just thinking of getting up to something naughty, she was dead-set planning on it.

  ‘Trysten?’ Her lips stayed slightly parted after she spoke.

  I swallowed. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘This seat taken?’

  ‘Yeah…nah…I mean—yeah, it’s free!’ My voice went up a few octaves on the free.

  I could feel my face flushing with blood. Sweating, too. I probably looked like a fresh slice of beetroot. Shit!

  ‘Thanks,’ said Jessica, smiling. Not in that mischievous way, though. Warm, friendly. Happy, too.

  She swung into the seat beside me and sat close. Not so close we were touching, but almost.

  For the rest of the ride I didn’t move, didn’t say nothing. Just sat there spying on the side of her face—her twinkling eyes, her wavy sandy hair with its tinges of gold, the freckles that dotted her cheek like a constellation of stars. And while I stared, she just sat looking out the window in front of us, head poised and still like someone waiting to get a photo taken. It was as if she knew I was staring and didn’t want me to stop.

  When Josie pulled up at school, Jessica turned and looked at me, smiling. Then she nudged me with her leg, leaving it linger a moment so I could feel her smooth skin.

  Holy shit! My skin tingled. My heart thumped. Blood rushed round inside of me like water in a flooding river.

  ‘Nice riding with you, Trysten!’ she said, standing and slinging her bag on her back. ‘See you at recess, yeah?’

  ‘Yep,’ I said, beaming back. ‘Sure thing!’

  She walked away down the aisle, catching up with Jade and Ricky. I wanted to follow her but I stayed seated, waiting for everyone to clear off the bus. I needed a bit more time for my heart to settle, for all my blood to flow back to its normal spots. A bit more time with my bag on my lap to hide the stiffy that was sticking up so hard it was like it was trying to pierce a hole in my lunchbox.